


mellohi

by AsterChonk0



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cat, Gen, March 1st Stream, Purgatory, TommyInnit Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), i'm still mad /j, theropaye puss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29841012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsterChonk0/pseuds/AsterChonk0
Summary: march first came and spat in my face after burning my homework
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	mellohi

**_~~Is it okay?~~ _ **

He floats in a black void for hours, maybe days, finding solace in the consistent darkness, filled with whispers and cries of those before him. Clara’s come to visit him only once yet, but brings news from the Overworld. Apparently, everyone cried, especially Tubbo. 

He finds that he cares very little for that. 

Clara, after giving him the rundown of how he died (seriously,  _ beaten to death _ ? Lame.) and how he has a choice to go back whenever he wants (“As a ghost, though,” she’d added lightly. “You can do all the things your corporeal body could not!”), she reaches out her hand and tells him simply, “It’s time.”

He’s led to a white area - Purgatory, he calls it. Clara parts with him from there, wishing him a happy journey and leaves with the promise of a visit. He watches her leave wistfully but before he can say anything, he’s brought back to the present by a familiar voice.

“ _ Tommy?! _ ”

He turns, and standing a few feet away from him, in all his glory, is Wilbur. 

He stands there looking like he did before the revolution, when all they cared about was each other. When Wilbur and Tommy would go to the tree that was named ‘L’mantree’ and sit under its shade while the elder would play his guitar and the younger would hum and sing. When suits didn’t matter, when swords hadn’t touched their hands, when potions hadn’t held such a special meaning for them. 

He’s clad in his brightest, most pastel yellow sweater, black skinny jeans, brown lace-boots and a mahogany beanie rests on his head like a halo, his mousse brown hair encircling his head in ringlets and little soft curls. He stands with the grace of a well-trained prince fit to be crowned, yet he looks horrified, conflicted, sad, livid. 

“What are you doing here?,” he says unkindly. 

Tommy crosses his arms tightly, turning his face away from his older brother ( _ hug him, tell him you missed him, don’t make him mad, poggers he’s back :D, it’s wilby go and tell that bitch how much you love him) _ , and says in all his glory, “I died, dickhead, what does it seem like to you?”

“Yeah, well you’re not supposed to be here!,” he yells, eyes wide as saucers, hands raised above his head to show his anger. “You’re not supposed to be dead yet! You’re supposed to be  _ alive,  _ with Tubbo and Ranboo!

“You’re supposed to be  _ healing, _ ” he finished with a deep breath. His eyes are wet, and his glasses are unevenly perched on the bridge of his nose. 

“You’re supposed to be having fun.”

Tommy sighs, and turns back to look at Wilbur. “I know,” he replies.

They stand there looking at each other before something rubs its back and purrs against Tommy’s leg. It’s the cat, Tommy realises, and bends down to scoop it up in his arms with a smile. “Hello there puss, a bit funny to see you here, innit?”

The cat meows in response, and jumps down to walk over and sit in front of Wilbur, looking at him with wide blue eyes. 

“Are you gonna show me around, or do you have a ditch for me?,” Tommy jokes. 

Wilbur, who’s crouched down and petting the cat, looks up confusedly, before realisation settles in. “Oh yes!,” he cries out, shooting upwards. “Follow me, Toms. I’ll take you to the others. There’s so much you can do here, it’s uncanny.”

“Others?,” Tommy raises an eyebrow.

“Schlatt and Mexican Dream,” Wilbur says. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Tommy follows silently as Wilbur takes him through and by white structures. When they reach a willow tree, Tommy sees two other men, one with distinct ram horns and another with a crudely painted tri-color mask, resting against the trunk of the tree, immersed in conversation. IIt is then Tommy feels a sense of longing, a sense of peace, a sense of longing for that type of peace. 

“I don’t think I’ll go back.”

“That’s okay. I missed you anyways.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr (asterchonk0)
> 
> also, for those of you who're hopeful for new stories like next week or so, i'm hitting your hope with a hammer. 
> 
> i'll be taking a break, and who knows how long it's gonna be. just exams and mental health, nothing big, but i'll be back :)
> 
> until i return, have a good time, stay hydrated and don't forget you're valid <3


End file.
